


Serving the Gods

by Singerdiva01



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 14:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1269043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerdiva01/pseuds/Singerdiva01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elosha serves Pythia's prophet on Kobol as she suffers through some of the more unusual side effects of chamalla.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serving the Gods

President Roslin hadn’t wanted to stop so soon after reaching Kobol but after the second time she stumbled into the nearby foliage, aching and spent, Captain Adama ordered the ragtag group to make camp for the night.

As the soldiers made quick work of the tents, Elosha found a canteen and handed the president two chamalla tablets. By the time her pallet was ready, between the drugs and the pain, both the priestess and the pilot had to help her lie down. Lee took watch outside. Elosha took out her scrolls, lit a candle, and settled down to take up her own guard. 

The sound of soft moaning interrupted her light slumber. She sat up and moved to stroke Laura’s hand and was only mildly surprised to discover the older woman was experiencing the side effects of chamalla. Laura's face was flushed, her eyes clenched shut in concentration. One hand moved roughly through the blanket between her legs, ragged breaths coming faster with each desperate stroke. 

Elosha wondered what Pythia’s prophet was seeing behind her fluttering lids. She considered herself devout but her faith came with a heavy dose of practicality and therefore left her with no illusions that Laura Roslin was chasing orgasm to the vision of Athena’s sacrifice or Titan’s fury. More likely Apollo, she decided with a smile, the rebellious, eager son with the body of a God, or maybe even Zeus, whose stubborn fury certainly had the consequences of one.

She was drawn out of her musings by increasingly frustrated groans from the woman at her side. She sighed and stroked the president’s hair comfortingly. Chamalla could evoke arousal so intense it verged on painful. Unfortunately, the drug could also make it incredibly hard to achieve orgasm. 

It was clear that Laura's only means of relief had once again turned into an extension of the suffering. Her hips bucked stiffly as the beginnings of tears leaked onto her cheeks.

Elosha had only been gifted with a message from the gods once before, when she was called to the priesthood. It hardly came as a surprise that the second time would be here, on Kobol, in a tent with the savior of humanity. With sudden clarity, the priestess knew what she what she was being called to do now and, surprisingly, exactly how to do it. 

She muttered soothing sounds into damp, auburn curls as she gently worked the president’s pants and underwear down her legs. She took Laura’s frantic hand into her own and carefully but surely met the next buck of her hips with her mouth. The priestess had never been with a woman and she’d she'd been celibate for thirty years but it didn't matter as her movements seemed guided by a force outside herself. Her tongue circled Laura’s clit expertly, worshiping the throbbing bud. 

Laura gasped her gratitude when Elosha’s fingers filled her and began to move in rythym to the music pulsing in her addled brain. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes as the shudders of her orgasm washed over her stomach, chest and limbs, replacing agony with blissful relief.

The priestess watched, entranced, as the prophet of Pythia arched her graceful neck and called to the Lords of Kobol by name before falling back against the makeshift pillow. Her cries morphed into low, contented hums before her body finally stilled and settled deeply into the blankets.

The Gods had finally deemed it fit to grant their servant rest.

Elosha sat still, watching and keeping watch, muttering silent thanks to them for using her as a vessel to provide comfort to the dying leader.

When she finally settled back into her own sleeping bag, her body hummed with religious devotion.


End file.
